


Kintsugi: Some Things Cannot Be Mended

by mansikka



Series: Making Amends [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Forgiveness, Getting Together, Human Castiel, M/M, Nervous Castiel, Nervous Dean, Normal Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early into the movie, Cas' head had started to nod towards Dean's shoulder. He'd fought it, jerking his head up several times before it finally landed, and when it did, Dean closed his eyes, breathing out a silent thanks.</p><p>Cas stirred against him, freezing perfectly still at an unnatural angle when he realised the position he was in.</p><p> “Shh,” Dean soothed, “I don't mind.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kintsugi: Some Things Cannot Be Mended

The TV bathed the room in a muted, flickering light as the movie drew to a close, and Dean pointed the remote to pause it so that they were not in complete darkness.

Early into the movie, Cas' head had started to nod towards Dean's shoulder. He'd fought it, jerking his head up several times before it finally landed, and when it did, Dean closed his eyes, breathing out a silent thanks.

Movie nights had early become one of the things they liked to do together, something that gave a focus outside of themselves but also a sense of connection. They had begun very firmly on their own cushions at opposite ends of the couch, but over the past couple of months, the space between them became less and less as they grew more and more comfortable.

Cas' head falling against Dean's shoulder was the first time they had actually touched, other than for brief hugs, in all of that time. And chaste that it was, Dean's heart was soaring in a way that wouldn't have been out of place in the chest of a sixteen year old on their first date.

Not that he cared. Cas was worth pushing through any embarrassment for; in fact, Dean didn't even like that he felt anything like embarrassed about it at all.

He looked down at Cas resting against him and grinned. One step at a time, he told himself.

Cas stirred against him, freezing perfectly still at an unnatural angle when he realised the position he was in.

“Shh,” Dean soothed, “I don't mind.”

Dean pressed his nose into Cas' hair to stop him moving, and inhaled with contentment as Cas' head dropped back down on to his shoulder with a soft sigh.

Dean let his own head fall backwards on the couch and lean lightly against Cas'.

After his first visit to Cas' apartment, Dean had felt so exposed, and so empty, that he still couldn't really remember anything of the drive home. He did remember being glad that he and Sam had headed straight out for a case, because he'd needed something else to concentrate on. Cas' words had played in entirety over and over for hours on end to him, and it had cut him open fresh, every single time.

But slowly ever since, they had been putting each other back together.

Dean had been back to Cas' apartment for five out of the last eight weekends, and each time got that little bit easier. He hadn't even intended to come back so often – not that he didn't want to, because he really, really did; he wanted to let things run at Cas' pace, desperate for Cas to see how willing he was to do whatever he needed of him. But Cas just kept inviting him back, and Dean found he could never say no.

Dean and Cas were evolving, and for what felt like the first time in Dean's life, this was a change that he had control over, and it was one that was just for him. And it was good.

Cas stirred again beside him.

“Cas.” Dean whispered against his head. “Cas. Are you tired?”

Dean watched as Cas forcibly shook himself awake, a pitiful denial at Dean's words. “I'm fine.”

Dean smiled affectionately and quirked an eyebrow in Cas' direction when he turned to face him. “I know you've got a lot of work on, Cas. It's okay to be tired.”

Cas groaned to himself and let his head fall back. “But you have only just arrived,” He complained petulantly, and Dean was glad that Cas' eyes were closed, so he wouldn't catch the look on his face, showing just how endearing Dean found him in that moment.

“And I'll be here in the morning,” he promised softly.

Cas didn't want to admit defeat, but his eyes were so sore that every blink sent tiny shoots of pain through his eyelids and into the back of his skull. True, his plans for completing his current project quickly so that he had time for Dean had been ambitious, and well-intentioned. But now that he had succeeded, he felt like he would never not be tired again.

Blearily Cas cracked open an eye to look at Dean, groaning in embarrassment as Dean's smile grew wider.

With a weary sigh Cas slumped his head back on Dean's shoulder, before sitting gingerly forward and then groggily dragging himself to his feet. Dean held out a hand to steady him, and Cas squeezed it, before offering a defeated, “Okay, Dean.”

Dean settled himself down to sleep not long after Cas went to his room, but it did not come immediately.

He thought back to his second visit, smiling at how far they had come.

***

_Dean felt his chest begin to tighten as he turned the second to last corner before arriving at Cas'._

_To his surprise, there, walking along the sidewalk was the unmistakeable sight of Cas, and Dean could tell from the way he stopped suddenly that Cas had recognised the rumbling engine of the Impala. Cas stood, perfectly still, head tilted for a second in a way that made Dean smirk, and then turned smoothly on the spot._

_Dean watched as Cas shifted the grocery bags in his arms a little, and felt himself break out into a grin._

“ _You are early, Dean.” Cas' face automatically pulled up into a responding smile as he bent down to look at Dean through the window._

_Dean jumped out of the car and reached for a bag._

“ _Not too early, I hope?” he asked, somewhere between teasing and checking._

_Cas' smile stayed wide. “Not at all.”_

_With the shopping now in the car they stood awkwardly, unsure of how they were supposed to greet each other. Their cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and there was a shyness between them that turned them into an obstruction in the street, causing passersby to tut and mumble in exasperation as they nudged their ways passed._  

“ _Hey, Cas,” Dean said eventually, face still split in a grin._

“ _Hello, Dean.” Cas' answer sounded warm, and welcoming, and Dean felt a little of his nervous tension drain away._

_They drove the few blocks to Cas' apartment, the journey taking barely enough time to make even idle conversation. Cas teased Dean for being out of breath as they climbed the stairs up to the apartment, Dean grumbling that his breathless was only because of lacking practice._

***

The stairs had grown easier, Dean thought to himself sleepily, a half-smile forming at the reminder that Cas would be sneaking through in the morning to go running. And, he told himself, that really, that meant Cas was cheating: Cas' regular runs made the stairs so much less arduous for him than they were for Dean.

Dean could always join him for running, he thought, knowing he was kidding himself. He'd much prefer to just enjoy the image of Cas in his running gear than run himself. It was almost as exhilarating.

And with that, he grinned wide, turned on his side, and fell immediately to sleep.

***

Dean hadn't seen Cas for three weeks, and he hated it.

He and Sam had been on a series of back-to-back hunts that had kept them far away. In between, Cas had been busy with a high profile translation as well as a birthday weekend for one of his friends.

They had still been in contact every day, usually by text but also with the occasional phone call, but that didn't feel like enough.

Dean sunk back into his mattress, groaning with comfort after a number of nights on bad motel beds and in the Impala. He tried to concentrate on how good that felt instead of torturing himself with thoughts of what Cas might be doing that night.

He failed.

There was no reason not to trust Cas. Mainly, Dean told himself, because they hadn't really defined what they were to each other as of yet, and so he didn't technically have the right to feel anything either way. But also because he refused to believe Cas would be the type of person to-

Dean groaned to himself again, this time at his overactive imagination, cutting off that train of thought altogether.

Cas had said he was busy, and Dean just had to accept that. He didn't need to work through a thousand options of what _busy_ might actually mean.

It didn't mean that he wouldn't.

 _He might be on a date_ , said a cruel voice, and any hopes of falling asleep vanished as a sick feeling sunk down on his stomach.

 _He might be with someone, right now_ , it whispered again, and tendrils of that sick feeling wound their way up to clasp like fingers around his heart.

Cursing himself, Dean threw back his duvet, and stamped out of his room.

Flicking on the minimum of lighting, Dean opened the fridge and uncapped a bottle of water, taking a long drink. He stood, taking in the stillness of the bunker by night, appreciating the silence around him.

When he felt calmer, Dean walked back through, idly stopping to glance at some paperwork Sam had left out. He became temporarily engrossed in an article about vampires, and finally felt he might be ready to try again to get to sleep.

Dean returned to his room, slumping back down on the bed, reaching for the phone by habit.

To his surprise there was a message, and his pulse quickened when he saw it was from Cas.

_Cas: Hello, Dean. Are you still awake?_

Dean typed back an immediate _yes_ , and he sat up just as the phone started ringing.

“Hello, Dean. I hope I didn't wake you?”

Dean waved a dismissive hand into the darkness of his room. “No, no. Not at all. You okay?”

“I am well. I am tired... but I am well.”

Dean heard Cas yawning and his curiosity, which was a very polite way to put how he was feeling, got the better of him.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you remember that small theater we pass near the library here, that you say looks like a haunted house?”

“I do.”

“I am currently stood outside of it speaking to you, and drinking Red Bull. I do not like Red Bull,” he added, and Dean could easily picture the wrinkling up of his nose in distaste, which painted a smile on Dean's face.

“What are you doing there?”

Cas yawned again. “We are watching an anime marathon.”

“Anime?” Dean asked, not convinced he had heard him correctly. “Since when do you like anime?”

“I don't believe I do, Dean. But I agreed to come.”

“Who are you with?” Dean cursed himself, wondering if that sounded too possessive.

Cas didn't seem to notice or mind, even if it did. “Peter. Two of Peter's friends whose names I have forgotten. Michael.”

Dean winced a little at the name involuntarily, and immediately felt silly for doing so. He'd liked Cas' friend Michael the one time he'd met him, but in his head he was _Mike_ , as all other Michaels had become since his earlier dealings with one.

He also pretended that he wasn't thoroughly relieved about Cas' choice of evening company.

“So...not going well?” Dean smiled into the phone in sympathy.

“It is... educational,” Cas managed tactfully.

“What time did it start?”

“Ten.” Dean winced for him; it was almost one in the morning now.

“And what time does it finish?”

“I am told at around six.” Cas grumbled, and Dean had to bite back his affectionate laugh.

“Aww. It... you might like the other films,” Dean offered, not really believing it.

“Perhaps. I think I will enjoy sleeping all day more.” Cas yawned again; the Red Bull clearly wasn't helping.

“All day?”

“Perhaps not all day,” Cas amended. “That would be somewhat wasteful. We will go for breakfast directly from here, then I will go to bed. Indefinitely,” Cas added decidedly, and Dean smiled into the phone.

“No plans tomorrow night? No more anime?”

“No more anime,” Cas confirmed with a groan. “I wondered if you would like to visit, actually.”

Dean's pulse raced again. He'd not been expecting an invitation, not too much anyway, but he'd hoped for one all the same. “Yeah, Cas. I'd love to.”

“I am pleased to hear that, Dean. I have missed you.” Cas' voice was shy, as though uncertain how his honesty would be received.

Dean breathed deeply in relief, loud enough for Cas to hear. “I've missed you too, Cas. A lot.”

***

When Dean stepped into Cas' apartment the following evening, Cas gave him just enough time to put his bag down on the floor before he stepped into his arms, wrapping his own tightly around him. Dean sighed out in utter relief, breathing into Cas' hair and closing his eyes in delight as Cas nudged into the crook of his neck.

***

“I cannot sit in a motel room, or a cafe, or anywhere, and work whilst you and Sam are hunting, Dean. I would be too worried to work and too useless to do anything to help.”

“Not useless, Cas.”

Cas sighed into the phone, disagreeing completely.

Cas was due to visit Dean and Sam for the first time at the bunker. A few hours before he was supposed to set off, Dean had received a call from another hunter about a wendigo causing havoc on 'their' patch, and was torn about what to do for the best. His solution was to swing by and pick Cas up along the way, and he was trying to sell him the idea.

It was not going well.

“This is the conflict I told you I was afraid of,” Cas mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Cas and Dean were still treading very carefully around each other, trying to fit into the other's life without causing any kind of disruption that wasn't a positive one. Cas was more concerned about the impact he had on Dean when he was hunting, because as he reasoned, there wasn't much danger in translation.

The intimacy between them had grown, and whilst that hadn't taken on a physical nature besides steadily lengthening hugs, and a whole lot of lingering leaning, Cas felt closer to Dean than he ever had.

But whilst that was true, Cas didn't think himself distracting enough to occupy Dean's every thought. Although if he were to be paying attention, or be even a little more honest with himself, he'd know that to be exactly the truth of it.

His own concern about being with Dean and Sam on the road was more about Dean's permanent need to be protective than anything else. Fear for the risks Dean might take if he thought he needed to take them was what made Cas certain that if he stayed away, he couldn't knowingly, or unknowingly, get in the way.

 “Cas,” Dean complained, whining a little. “We've talked about this. It's okay to do this.”

“I do not want to make things difficult for you. If I am there, you will feel the need to watch over me.” Cas realised he'd voiced out his exact concerns without feeling the need to filter them, or talk around them, and hummed to himself, pleased. Cas found that he especially liked that part of this easy new side to them.

“You think I don't feel the need to watch over you when you're not with me, Cas?” Dean offered, a warm kind of amusement in his voice.

His words made Cas pause; because he hadn't ever considered it like that.

“You think other people don't worry about their... the people they care about when they're apart?” Dean pressed on, pausing with caution over some of his words, not able to see the way Cas' eyes widened at them.

“You imagine a... firefighter and a doctor together don't worry about each other when they’re out at work?” Dean seemed to have warmed to his subject, and his words just pushed Cas' eyebrows up higher into arches. Because the way Dean was wording things, it sounded very much like he was comparing them to a couple. A regular couple, with regular jobs, who yes, would naturally think about how the other's day was going, and wonder if they were doing okay.

Were they a couple?

There had been nothing particularly couple-like between them, he thought, neglecting to consider the affection between them and the way they moved together.

It was true that there was attraction between them, both finally at least able to see that for what it was and not feel the need to hide from it.

But they'd not done anything about it, not yet 

Cas wondered if he was mistakenly using that distinction, their lack of physicality, as some kind of marker for defining what they truly were.

Slightly off guard because of his realisation, Cas fumbled for an appropriate response. “Those are particularly...masculine roles you've chosen to illustrate your point, Dean.”

“Cast _iel_! You... chauvinist!” Dean teased in mock horror, almost able to hear the blush it brought to Cas' cheeks.

“I did not mean-” Cas gasped out hastily, but he was cut off by Dean's bellow of laughter.

“Just messing with you, Cas, I promise.”

“I believe in equal opportunities for all,” Cas rumbled, “I don't think that-”

“Cas...” Dean's whine was back, now full of amusement. He bit back the laugh that threatened its way out at the huff he heard down the phone.

“I still feel I would be in the way.”

Dean's smile slipped a little but it wasn't in any real disappointment. He'd anticipated Cas' response before he'd even suggested it, but had wanted to ask anyway. He also knew pushing was no good; this easiness between them now had been earned through a lot of work and compromise.

“I get it. I'm sorry to mess up our plans, Cas. I was really looking forward to seeing you.”

Cas smiled into the phone as though he could lean through the line. “As was I, Dean. But there will be next time.”

“Yeah,” Dean's reply was full of gratitude, and relief. “there _will_ , Cas.” Dean's reply was full of gratitude, and relief.

“When will you leave?” Cas started to open his email; he may as well check to see if there was any more work available now that he had unexpected time on his hands. Or he could see if anyone else was free to meet up, he idly thought to himself. Cas wrinkled his nose at that, acknowledging that he wanted to see Dean more than anyone else.

That instantly made the decision for him. As soon as they had finished their call, he decided, he was going to make plans with one of his friends; he must not become too reliant on Dean, he warned himself sternly. Even if they were... and a smile took over where the words didn't need to be finished.

“Sam's just packing up some stuff. I guess in an hour or so. Should be an easy hunt. Maybe a couple of days,” he added with a sigh.

“Call me when you are finished?”

“I planned on calling you long before that, Cas.” Dean's voice was a little hurt, and Cas found himself shaking his head.

“I meant...call me when you have completed your task. If I am free, perhaps you and Sam can stop by on your way back. I imagine my location is on your route home?”

“Oh,” Dean breathed, and Cas pictured the smile on his face, feeling another on his own.

“Be safe, Dean. You and Sam.”

“We will. You too.”

***

It could have been any number of mealtimes over any number of years.

Sam, Dean and Cas were sat in a diner making small talk over a late lunch. With the hunt finished, Dean had done just as Cas had suggested and called in to see him on the way home.

Cas had been spot on about the burgers in his local diner.

There was nothing particularly different between them; the three of them absently trading off items between their plates with Cas favouring pickles, Sam getting everyone's salad, and Dean taking an extra handful of fries from them both.

But something clearly was very different, at least in Sam's eyes. He stared between Dean and Cas intensely, as though he was looking for something very specific but had no idea what it was.

There wasn't really anything to see.

Except of course, there was.

This new-found simplicity between Dean and Cas, it really was something special. Where they'd once sat slightly rigid beside each other before unconsciously drifting together and leaving Sam exasperated, now they were already there. If one leaned on the other or nudged them accidentally, there was no awkwardness. There were shared smiles, unspoken conversations – but then, he supposed, that bit was already a truth. They'd always done the eye thing.

But they were _comfortable_. That, Sam supposed, was the difference. No longer difficult in each other's company because of unspoken feelings. And god, how there had been unspoken feelings that he'd had to witness unbearably, so many times.

Whatever they were, or weren't drifting towards seemed uncomplicated, and all Sam could feel about that was _finally_.

When he hugged Cas goodbye, Sam walked around to his side of the car and watched in silence as Dean pulled Cas into his arms and held him tight. Now that was something more than a hug right there, he told himself, keeping his grin internal. It was the way Dean seemed to be breathing Cas in that spoke loudest to Sam.

Sam looked away, hearing the mumbles of a private conversation between them and not wanting to be seen to be eavesdropping. He didn't look up again until he heard the car door being opened. There was a slight blush on Cas' face but he smiled ear to ear, so obviously happy that Sam couldn't help grin in his direction.

He waited for them to pull away before swivelling in his seat to focus on Dean.

Dean felt his eyes on him and tilted his chin a little, but kept his own eyes firmly on the road. “Sammy.”

Sam said nothing.

“So...” Dean prompted, wanting this conversation and yet not, and either way, wanting it over.

“Don't _so_ me. Talk.” Sam's voice bristled with amused annoyance.

Dean grimaced, flicking his eyes quickly in his direction before straight back to the road. “About?”

“Dean.”

“ _'Dean'_ ,” Dean repeated, mocking lightly.

“You've been holding out on me,” he accused with a smirk, keeping his eyes fixed on him.

“I have not,” Dean objected, far too quickly.

“Yeah you have. ' _I'm seeing Cas this weekend_ '. I should have guessed it was...something.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to find no need, and just shrugged instead.

Sam stared, and grew very quiet.

After a while, with awe in his voice, he mumbled, “You're happy.”

“Sure I am.” Dean nodded, allowing a small smile.

“With _Cas_...” Sam pressed, unable to keep the teasing from his voice.

Sam didn't know what to expect him to say, not really. Dean had never liked his attempts to talk things out, but he was his brother, and it was his job to ask. Or tease. Or both.

“Yeah, Sam.” Dean's voice was small, and quiet, yet totally sincere. “Yeah, I am.”

Sam's mouth dropped open at the simple way Dean responded, but quickly steadied himself, not wanting Dean to misunderstand his reaction.

At his lack of words, Dean turned, raising an eyebrow. “I mean we're not _there_ yet. Like...” And he waved his hand vaguely.

Sam had no desire to know what that meant.

“But we're good. We're getting there.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Sam.”

Sam's voice became really, really quiet. “I really like seeing you like this.”

“What's _'this'_?”

“You know.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but the smile there said he did know, exactly what Sam was implying. The smile stayed, and they continued the drive in comfortable silence all the way back.

***

“What are you working on, Cas?”

Cas frowned for a moment, typing quickly to finish the line he was working on before looking up at Sam.

The moment he and Dean had rearranged for him to come to spend a weekend with he and Sam at the bunker, was the moment he had received an offer of work that had an urgent deadline.

Dean hadn't wanted them to change their plans again; he wanted Cas to feel at home just as much in the bunker as Dean was starting to feel in Cas' apartment.

It was no longer about bringing Cas back to a place he thought he should be; Dean just wanted their lives to slot together as best as they could. And if that meant Cas being comfortable enough to add the bunker to the list of locations where he could work, then that was definitely a step in the right direction in Dean's eyes.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was translating Elvish, Enochian and Dothraki?”

Sam snorted, but pulled up a chair next to him and looked at the printouts on the table with interest. “I'd try and believe you. That's... an odd combination. And since when do you speak Dothraki?”

Cas smiled, giving a nonchalant shrug. “I learnt.”

“You learnt.” Sam repeated, disbelieving. “How? And...why?”

“I'm a language geek,” Cas retorted with a laugh. “It's what I do now.”

Sam's hand ran over the texts in front of him, and he shook his head with a laugh. “What kind of person needs Elvish, Enochian and Dothraki all in the same place?”

Cas swivelled his laptop a little to show Sam, and his wide eyes made Cas want to laugh.

“Cas... who wants to recreate the Rosetta Stone like... this?”

“I believe you are familiar with LARPing? This is for a convention in...” and he quickly tabbed the page over to check his documents before returning to the current screen, “Boston. I am not sure of its purpose, but it sounded an interesting project.”

“Seriously?”

Dean's voice drifted over and he rushed towards them, dumping three bottles of beer down roughly on the table and leaning forward to look at the screen in fascination.

His right hand gripped onto the back of Cas' chair, with his knuckles pressing lightly against his back. Dean's chest was against Cas' shoulder as his left hand reached out for the screen, tracing a finger along the lines of text, completely absorbed.

“How come they wanted Quenya instead of Sindarin?” Dean asked, frowning slightly.

“That was not in the remit,” Cas replied blithely, both of them oblivious to Sam's dropped jaw.

“' _Quenya instead of Sindarin_ '?” Sam repeated, giving them nothing but tone.

“Yeah.” Dean replied, not looking up from the screen. “Seems odd to choose high Elvish over the regular kind.”

“Since when do you read Elvish, Dean?”

Cas ignored Sam, answering Dean instead. “I do not believe Sindarin is the 'regular kind', merely another dialect.”

“Seriously, Cas? Sindarin is so much better.”

Cas laughed, leaning back a little and smirking up at Dean. “Define 'better'.”

“Guys.”

The unstated question in Sam's voice brought both Dean's and Cas' attention back to him, and they turned their heads at the same time to look at him expectantly.

What they found on Sam's face was an incredibly bewildered look. His eyes drifted over the easy way Dean leaned over Cas, and Sam was so torn between teasing Dean for his geeky Elvish knowledge, and happiness for how good they looked together, that he ended up just sitting there slightly dumbfounded.

Sam found he actually couldn't say a single thing.

“Nothing, nothing.” Sam waved a hand in dismissal eventually, ignoring the slight lump in his throat at the sight of them together. Instead, he reached out for the beers, taking a pull of his own as he placed one in front of either of them, before shaking his head with a smile.

***

Dean and Cas' movie night tradition also came to the bunker, along with his work.

In honour of the Elvish from earlier, they agreed on the Lord Of The Rings, with Cas enthusiastically correcting some of the translations on screen.

Dean accused him of being a killjoy.

Cas shoved a handful of popcorn into Dean's mouth in retaliation.

Sam's eyes grew wide with surprise yet again.

They continued to widen over the course of the evening, especially when Dean at one point wriggled his way under Cas' arm to rest his head into his neck, and Cas' eyes showing no surprise, not even enough for his attention to leave the screen. His hand lightly squeezed Dean's arm, but no other movement was made at all, and Sam smiled so wide that he hurt his own jaw.

***

When it came to time to sleep, Dean took a long time in walking Cas to the room he'd made up for him, as though it wasn't practically opposite his own.

They stood outside talking for a little while, neither really wanting to be the first to turn away for the night.

In the end, it was Cas' badly-disguised yawn that forced Dean to ask if Cas needed to sleep. Cas rocked on the balls of his feet for a moment, and then opened his arms out to him.

Dean smiled, stepping forward into them eagerly.

When Cas pulled away with a smile and turned towards his door, Dean reached out a hand to stop him. Cas pivoted back, an expectant question on his face as his eyes dropped to where Dean chewed on his bottom lip.

“Cas...” Dean breathed, his heart beginning to pound. “Can I...”

Dean's tongue grew heavy in his mouth. “Can I kiss you?” he asked with a sucked in breath that he held, waiting for Cas to respond.

Cas too breathed in a little hard, but there was a smile on his face when he half teased, half whispered, “A goodnight kiss, Dean?”

Dean let out the breath he was holding with a slight laugh. “Any kind of kiss, Cas.”

Cas took one single step towards him, crowding into Dean's space again. “Of course, Dean.”

“Cas....Cas...” Dean was unable to say, or think anything else when he finally leaned in to kiss him for the first time.

He'd expected Cas to gasp in something like surprise, or nervousness when he first pressed his lips down onto his. But the only response Cas gave was a deep, relieved sigh that spoke of _finally_ , and _what took us so long_.

Cas' hands pressed for a moment into Dean's chest before sliding upwards, curling up over his shoulders as Dean's arms moved around Cas' back. Dean gripped his fingers together, interlocking them low around Cas' waist to prevent his hands from exploring the way they itched to; he didn't want this to be too much, too soon.

The way Cas moved his lips against his was intoxicating. However Dean moved, Cas moved with him, a series of sighs and moans of contentment echoing out through the hallway.

Dean spun them so he could press Cas against the wall, but angled his pelvis away just enough for Cas not to be able to feel how he couldn't help reacting. He continued the kiss with his eyes closed, breathing steadily and loving the way Cas' whole body hummed against him where it touched.

When they eventually pulled away, both smiled as though their faces would split.

And this time when they laid awake in the dark, staring at their separate spots of ceiling, their thoughts were solely of that kiss, and whatever was to come.

***

Dean's welcome to Cas' apartment had progressed from awkward standoffs, to lengthy hugs, and on to lingering kisses.

On arrival Dean would often still mumble, “I'm not taking up too much of your time, am I?” with his nose pressed just above Cas' ear, looking for the reassurance he shouldn't really need by now.

“Never,” would always come the muffled reply, and Cas would nudge in that little bit tighter before leaning up to claim his mouth.

They had gone from what was supposed to be a casual _see me when you're free_ to _I can be free whenever you're free_ to _please, can I see you now_ , which meant the length of time they was apart grew shorter and shorter.

They'd also gone from the mostly-chastest of touches to hands up shirts and fingers pressed into denim, lining up against one another in a way that produced the most breathy of moans.

When Dean joked about them never leaving the apartment anymore because they spent all of their time making out like horny teenagers, Cas had pointed out that he'd never really had the opportunity to behave like a teenager, so he was making up for lost time.

Dean thought that was excellent reasoning, and promptly pushed Cas back on to the couch, climbing on top of him with a certainty of movement that spoke of much practice.

***

Dean and Cas had both insisted on letting things happen between them when they would happen, but it was getting more difficult for either of them to hold back. It was something that left a constant, bittersweet ache in Dean. Because as much as he wanted Cas, and god, how he wanted him, to the point where it was hard to think of anything else, Dean was wary of being the one taking the lead, still desperate for Cas to feel totally in control.

“I don't think I can stay.”

Dean's tortured, and breathless words took Cas by surprise, and for a second Cas felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He tried to keep his face a mask, but Dean read his reaction openly.

“I mean I want to stay,” Dean continued, curling his fingers around Cas' forearm and holding it there gently as he nudged Cas' lips part with his own before pressing another long kiss on to him. He pulled back minutely, but enough so that his eyes could drop to Cas' lips full of intent. “Believe me, Cas. I want to.”

Cas breathed, part relief, part desire, and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Dean's. “Then why don't you?”

“Because,” Dean closed his own eyes and sighed a little, pressing the full length of his body against him, “If I stay, I don't think I can behave myself.” And with that he pressed another kiss onto him, flicking his tongue into Cas’ mouth in a way that said nothing but _want_.

When Dean opened his eyes again, he let them fall back to Cas' mouth, letting Cas figure out what he wanted.

Cas did, and his eyes flared a little whilst his mouth curved up into a smile that just _did_ something to Dean.

Dean was unable to stop himself. He leaned down, pressing his lips firmly against Cas' again, releasing his grip on his arm so he could gently hold Cas' face exactly at the angle he wanted it whilst he explored his mouth.

Cas sighed happily into the kiss, weaving his arms up and around Dean's back as he opened his mouth a little wider to invite Dean in.

“Please stay, Dean,” He mumbled a little later. Cas stopped only briefly to catch his breath, and he smiled to hear the hitch in Dean's own.

Cas fixed his eyes on Dean's to make sure there was no misunderstanding as he curled a hand into his, slowly stepping backwards towards his bedroom.

Dean swallowed rapidly, licking his lips once before nodding, and followed.

*** 


End file.
